The Jacket
by NutsandVolts
Summary: Gale loses his jacket. Well, kind of. Pointless fluffy oneshot to repair my broken heart. Beetee/Gale.


**What can I say? My last oneshot (****_Don't Leave Me_****) broke my heart, and this pointless fluff is an effort to repair it. :') Enjoy!**

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"Beetee?" says Gale as he enters the kitchen.

Beetee looks up in surprise; on most days, Gale likes to stop by the woods before work, and if he wants to squeeze in that trip today, he should be out of the house by now. Neatly folding the newspaper he'd been reading, Beetee peers up at Gale and asks, "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah," Gale answers. He casts his gaze about, then turns back to Beetee and says, "I can't find my jacket."

"You misplaced it?"

"No. It just isn't where I left it."

Beetee has to contain a small laugh at these words. Observant as he is, Gale notices and frowns. "It's not funny," he says. "I know exactly where I put it, but it's not there anymore!"

"All right, all right, calm down," says Beetee, gaining his feet. He begins to pace the kitchen, thinking of where it could be. "Did you look in the bedroom?"

"Yeah."

"Bathroom? Laundry?"

"I looked everywhere, Beetee," Gale says exasperatedly. "It's just gone. Like it vanished or something."

"It couldn't have very well walked away," Beetee assures him, a bit too sincerely. Gale narrows his eyes slightly, but doesn't comment. "It has to be around here somewhere."

"Well, yeah, but _where_?" Gale emits a groan of frustration, turning on his heel to go back upstairs and search some more, but Beetee, upon noticing the time, catches his arm before he does.

"You're going to be late," he says. Gale turns back to him, aghast, and Beetee cups his face to console him. "I'll look for your jacket while you're at work, all right? It has to be around here somewhere. It'll turn up."

Still seeming a bit dismayed, Gale nods, then leans in and kisses Beetee's forehead. "See you later," he says, folding his hand over Beetee's briefly and giving it a squeeze. Beetee smiles and squeezes back.

"See you later."

With one last smile, Gale steps away from Beetee, adjusts his bag on his shoulder, and goes. Beetee returns to his newspaper. After another minute or so, he rises to put his mug in the sink; then, he crosses over to the sofa, peering around as he does. When he's assured of his solitude, Beetee reaches behind a pillow and withdraws Gale's jacket.

Clearly, Gale isn't as good at finding as Beetee is at hiding.

He presses the material against his face for a moment, inhaling the scent that clings to the leather. It smells just like Gale: a combination of fresh earth, the embers of a dying fire, and something sweeter, like honeysuckle or orange blossoms, perhaps. A contented sigh escapes him, after which Beetee slips on the jacket and curls up on the sofa with his latest book, a rather lengthy catalog of the life of Leonardo da Vinci. He's only a few pages into the biography, however, when a voice interrupts him.

"You little thief."

Startled, Beetee jumps and whips around to find Gale standing behind him, an unsuppressed smirk playing on his lips.

"Gale!" says Beetee, his face immediately growing warm. He tries to think of some explanation, but he can't; instead, he asks weakly, "What...what are you doing here?"

"Confirming a hunch," Gale replies, still grinning. He circles the sofa so that he faces Beetee and seats himself in the armchair adjacent to the couch. "What, you didn't think I knew _you_ had my jacket? Come on, that's a little insulting."

"But...but..." Beetee's speechless for a moment. "You..."

"Wanted to make sure I was right, first of all, though I was pretty sure I was," Gale fills in. "I also wonder why you took it when you could have just asked to wear it. I mean, I'm not that unreasonable, am I? Though you do tend to over-think things like that." After a short pause, his smile broadens. "And I think you look really cute in it." Beetee blushes harder and averts his gaze.

"Why aren't you at work?" he mumbles.

Gale laughs and regains his feet, returning to Beetee's side to run a hand fondly over his hair. "Beetee," says Gale into his ear, "it's Sunday."

Beetee turns, if possible, even redder.

"And since it is," he continues, stepping away from Beetee once more, "I think it's time for a hunting trip. It's hard to catch anything in the mornings, you know? Not enough time to sit and wait."

Beetee's eyes follow Gale as he leaves the room. After a minute or two, he returns in more casual attire, his bow and a quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder. "I'll be back in a bit," he says. Gale pauses behind the sofa on his way to the door to press a kiss to the top of Beetee's head; right before he pulls away, however, he suddenly dips his head down to Beetee's shoulder. Beetee regards him in confusion as he nuzzles it, then pulls back, a curious expression on his face. After another pause, his face splits into a grin once more. "Does it smell that good?"

"Oh, get out of here already, will you?" Now crimson, Beetee hits Gale in the arm with his book for good measure as he laughs his way out the door.

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**Aww, poor Beetee. Gale's never going to let him live this down, is he? But then again, we don't really want him to. Makes for good fluff. :P Leave a comment, maybe?**


End file.
